L U C K Y
by I'veGotAnotherConfessionToMake
Summary: I cried for you, and the sky cried for you, and when you left, I became a hopeless drifter. But this life was not for you. Though I learned from you, that beauty need only be a whisper.


**A/N Ok, before you read this, download I Cried Over You by Katie Melua and listen to it as you read this story; it reads the beginning and really gives you a feel for what Hermione feels in this. And if you don't, you'll still get it, just not like I intended.**

**Disclaimer: HP not mine; Song lyrics belong to Katie Melua; quote from Tristan & Isolde.**

**L U C K Y**

In the days impending, we learned how to live again by the sea. It was a methodical, never-changing temperament in which we were able to re-establish ourselves. We learned the sea, and the land. We learned how to rebuild and grow the things we needed to survive. We learned how to relax into calmness and love one another because we wanted to; not because that at any moment they could be killed. And, most importantly, we learned how to forgive. True, we would never forget, but to forgive granted us the smallest pieces of sanity. The ability passed sorrowful days, winnowing out our grievances, and helped us to pass into beautifully, happier moments. Moments, where we could forget who we were, where we had come from, and at times, what we held against the others with us.

It was forced at first, to have to spend so much time with those who had wronged us, and we them, but in the end, we found that not only did it help us, it helped them. They learned how to be human beings, ones capable of feeling, and we learned that despite all of our teachings, we were just as prejudiced as they. We passed the seconds and hours, minutes and days in which we had to display comfort and civility with one another by simply talking, and arguing and attempting to kill the other with nothing other than our thoughts. And it helped, as strange as that may sound. It helped to make us forget all the people, friends and family alike, that we had seen murdered before us; it helped them to gain control of their murderous tendencies.

We were assigned partners, like in grade school, only now we were all mostly in our twenties. They segregated us into three main bodies; innocent, guilty through association, and guilty of murder, torture, and disturbance of the peace, most of _them_ with an all of the above checked under guilty. No one on my side was anything but innocent. How could we not be?

Our partners were given to us in the most pointless way. The officials running the place felt that for any type of change to be made, they must separate the guilty, and place them with us, the innocent. We were paired boy-girl, boy-girl, and each of us, in pairs sent off to a special place where we were to complete the assigned task. They said that it would help diminish animosity, and by making us work together, form stronger bonds that would eventually change the face of the wizarding world. I wished strongly that I hadn't been one to be caught up in all of this bull shit.

The only reason why I was here in the first place was a well aimed cruciatus that left me breathless and so insane that I couldn't tell right from left. But, as I later found, it hadn't been strong enough to completely destroy me; not like the Longbottoms at least, and for that I was the slightest bit grateful. I recovered after time; I had time… something that many had been robbed of. I was one of lucky, as much as I hated to think of it that way. Luck seemed so pointless now.

And who would've thought that by placing me with the one who had tortured me with the cruciatus would be the most logical thing to do? Sometimes I thought that luck was completely against everyone in the world, and that whenever something good did happen to take place, we mistook it for something better, something _lucky_. And now, as I sit here in this tiny room with none but the company of Him, I begin to realize that luck is something the Irish made up; luck does not under any circumstances exist. It can't.

We stare at each other for a moment, He and I. We rarely talk, and when we do, our tones are biting and scathing, nothing short of scary. The passion we hated each other with extended all the way back to our years in school, though now, it was slightly different. In school, we had hated one another so malevolently that it amazed those around that inanimate objects close to us did not spontaneously combust. And now? Now, we needed our hate for each other, we needed it to continue on with our formality; with the ways our lives had been before, before the war and before we were placed together against our will. It helped to sustain us, and give us the pieces of sanity that just being here alone and learning to forgive could never do.

Bit by bit, we eased into a rocky type of relationship, which was what the both of us were currently attempting to deny as we sat together, here at the Haven by the sea. Outside I could hear the waves crashing against the sandy beaches. I could hear the sound of it retreating back into the ocean, leaving only the smallest traces of its presence behind. And then, above all of that, I could hear him. Before I had thought him spineless and pathetic, the worst excuse for a human being, let alone a wizard. But now, as we sat together through these days, I began to see that he _breathed_ like the rest of us, and he _felt something_ like the rest of us. When he was struck and a cut marred his skin, he bled, and in time he came to realize that when I bled, our blood was exactly the same. His was no better than mine for the simplest facts of _purity_. There wasn't purity in this world anymore. We sat here together, listening to the waves which methodically soothed us, and listened to each other breathe, for that was all we could do. It was all that they allowed when there weren't things planned for the day; and surprisingly, we were okay with that.

In the days that we sat silently, waiting for something to do, I studied him. I learned him, what he did and didn't like, and slowly, I found that the feelings I had for him weren't all ones of hate. But, I found, that as I studied him and came to think of something other than mean names whenever he crossed my mind, I didn't know whether to curse myself for ever having had thought these things, or to rejoice with the fact that I had moved on. I had finally forgotten mostly about what had transpired between us! And it was wonderfully painful to see that now the thoughts that would plague me would have to do not with wanting to kill him, but to protect him. How had I reached this? I wanted answers. I wanted to know what exactly he had done to me. Why had he placed the cruciatus on me, and why didn't he intend me to stay forever insane? Wasn't that what he had always dreamed- a member of the Golden Trio locked forever away in the insane ward of the hospital?

"Why?" I asked. Had I just spoken? The thoughts had crossed my mind, but for them to actually leave my mouth was something of a completely different nature. After all, we had come to the silent agreement that silence was what we both wanted, when in actuality, it was what he wanted. And so, I cringed in fear. The last time I had attempted to speak to him, tried to break him of his reverie and have the smallest forms of communication, a chair had ended up hitting me in the head. As I thought of this, a low dull pain engulfed my forehead.

"What?" He asked, surprised. His tone was soft; his eyes were impassive and less guarded than before. I found that I liked him better like this. This made him approachable.

"Why?" I repeated, my voice so soft, it was a wonder that he could hear me. "Why didn't you do it?"

"Do what?" The look on his face showed utmost confusion. I sighed and shifted weight in my chair. It groaned under me, creaking and popping as I pressed my body into it's high-backed seat.

"Why didn't you make me insane, like you were supposed to?"

And then something changed. We changed; he changed; who we were as a pair changed, all in one instant, all with one phrase uttered from his lips.

"I wasn't supposed to." He stated softly. He eyes were guarded, as I knew that mine must also be. He slumped in his chair and held his head in his hands.

"Then why did you do it?" I asked, my voice soft and yet hysterical. Tears brimmed at my eyes, hot and burning. I refused to let them fall, not here, not now with him before me to ridicule me for being weak. Not when I sat across from someone who had made me waste precious years of my life.

"Because it had to be done- to insure that you left that place unharmed."

"What? That doesn't make any sense! What the hell do you care whether or not I left unharmed?"

"I am capable of feeling."

"Yes, now."

"No, I've always been human; I've always felt."

"Felt? What could you have possibly felt?"

"You wouldn't understand," He said, raising his head from his palms. I curled my bottom lip into my mouth, working it between my teeth. The tone with which he had said this last phrase left it final that he didn't wish to speak to me; he wasn't about to tell. And I would have to live with not knowing; at least for the time being.

So we settled back into what we had been before. On the days when we had assignments, we worked and worked, never talking and yet conversing in such small ways, that we knew what the other wanted to say merely by walking past them.

For an entire month we were set to Food Production. We were to go into the fields and tend to the plants; pulling weeds and watering, and digging up the ones that were ready for harvesting. It was tiring, back-breaking work that was required here. We worked as a pair. For the weeding, he squatted and stood, yanking and pulling at the nasty green plants with all his might before placing them in the burlap sack I carried around as I followed him down row after row. And we were silent once again. Only now, I yearned to talk to him. I wanted so badly to hear his voice; he was the only one I came into contact with, he was my only source of human reassurance that we were still alive.

We continued down the row, past others doing their jobs, all mostly silent but with their partners. They spoke to one another in hushed tones, smiling seemingly inconspicuously at each other as they worked, and I wished suddenly for that. And he must've known that. Surely, he couldn't deny the palpable yearning I had for contact. But still, he remained quiet, instead pulling at the weeds with sweat dripping from his face and arms and through his white shirt. And I was too afraid to break this silence, afraid of what could happen if we both just succumbed to what we felt; what we desired.

When it was my turn to work, I found it easier to ignore him and my feelings. Instead, I could focus on the fruits and vegetables. I felt smarter like this, doing something that actually required knowledge as to what needed to be plucked when and what conditions to store it in. He allowed me this, trailing me, wicker basket in tow always three steps behind me. I would fill the work apron I wore to the brim and then dump it into his basket, avoiding eye contact at all costs. It was better like this, as much as I hated to admit it.

From sun up to sun down, we were sent to work. And we made it comfortable for ourselves. What else could we do? Here we were in a government controlled area because we were at this time considered a danger to society. We had naught but each other, and here we were to repair one another and become shadows of what we had once been. Visitors weren't allowed, only the victims, us, and the officials who oversaw us. It was almost too easy to become attached to this Haven, to the sea and to the people we were living in close proximity to. To Him.

After work we were to travel, with our partners to the Dining Hall where we stood in line together and ate together at specific assigned tables. Again, in silence. However, unlike when we were silent during work, dinner was different. I liked the silence that rang throughout the hall, the only sounds of everyone eating and drinking, standing and sitting. It helped to us regain a piece of our former selves. We ate in the ways we had been raised, and in accordance to that difference among each and everyone of us, we were silent to relive those moments. After dinner we left with our partners to our sleeping quarters, which consisted of a living area, bathroom and bedroom partitioned off by a bamboo wall that gave us each our own privacy without being too far apart. They wanted us to depend on someone. Without them, there were the thoughts that we weren't here for any other purpose than to work. They wanted us to learn… to love again. To know what that felt like, fully and completely and with the people who the most unlikely candidates. Our bamboo walls were removable, should we choose to take advantage of that. But we didn't. We didn't want that; not yet. We had after all hated one another for so long, even if now we were confused individuals.

That night after dinner I heard him in the bathroom. I listened as he got into the shower and tried not to imagine what it would be like to step in there with him. I heard him brush his teeth; place his towel back on the rack and then open the door and step out into the hall. I closed my eyes and curled into a ball on my bed as he came into our room and passed through the bamboo partition's opening into his own private space. When I opened my eyes, I watched his shadow through the thin material slung between each bamboo pole. What had become of me? I hardly knew this person any longer, and yet I still watched him.

Before I had come here, they allowed me to take one thing that would help me. It could be anything but a person or animal. And so I brought along a CD that had all the heart-felt, cry-over-me songs that girls love. I turned away from his shadow and pulled out my CD player and case. I snapped open the lid to the CD case and carefully removed the CD, blowing away non-existent dust particles before setting it on the player and closing the CD player's lid. Sliding on the ear phones, I lay my head back down on my pillow moving around a bit to get comfortable as I pressed play and then skip, searching for the one song that had as of late, been giving me the most comfort. And soon, I was lost.

_You're beautiful so silently_

_It lies beneath a shade of blue_

_It struck me so violently_

_When I looked at you._

_But others pass, the never pause,_

_To feel that magic in your hand_

_To me you're like a wild rose_

_They never understood why_

_I cried for you   
When the sky cried for you  
And when you went  
I became a hopeless drifter  
But this life was not for you  
Though I learned from you,  
That beauty need only be a whisper_

I placed the song on repeat and willed myself not to cry. I can't handle being so lonely; having him there and being an Untouchable kills me a little bit more every day. I know that he needs contact. I know that he needs to know that we are still alive and capable of feeling, though I'm not quite sure I believe yet whether or not he can feel. When I opened my eyes, I noticed that the light on his side of the room was off, and that he was poking his head round the bamboo partition. Carefully I slid the headphones off my head and let them fall to my pillow.

"What?" I asked, lifting my head so as to better see him. His face was impassive, yet I knew it was killing him not knowing what was bothering me. We had after all been acquaintances for quite some time; it was only natural that we care a little for what the other felt. It made the days easier when we were both in a better mood.

"Can I come over?"

I blinked. What? What was that supposed to mean? Come over here, as in to see me? That was something that had never happened, never been broached by either one of us. Our bedrooms were our private spaces.

He took my silence as a yes; my shock must've been apparent. But, as always, he knew me better than he let on; he knew that I needed someone. And he was the only one available. He came to the side of my bed and pushed me over so that I was squished to one side of the tiny twin bed, and then he climbed in beside me. Our feet touched under the blankets, and I quickly recoiled. "What are you doing?"

But he didn't answer me. He just pulled me closer to him so that our bodies were touching. My breath hitched in my throat. This was something new, and not all that welcomed for the mere fact of who we were and the hate we were _supposed_ to harbor for one another. I can't describe the feelings I felt when our bodies touched, the clothed skin pressed against clothed skin that had enough heat to burn them away. He touched my face, pressing the pads of his fingers against my skin as he traced a flaming trail across my cheek, up to my temple and then through my locks of hair. And then he kissed me. It was like a fire erupted between us where we were connected. He slid atop of me and I clung to him desperately. I needed this contact, more than I could possibly know. I lost myself in this moment, so new and raw as he lay atop me, kissing me like it was the only thing keeping the both of us alive and should he slacken, we would perish.

_If our two loves be one, or thou and I love so alike that none can slacken, none can die._

We kissed and we kissed and finally when that did not satisfy, we moved on to uncharted lands. His fingers slid up my sides, thumbs extended to catch my shirt and bring it up. He broke away from me momentarily to remove the article of clothing before swooping back down to me and kissing my swollen pinks lips. His thumb rubbed the skin of my breast raw before I did the same as he had done to me, helping him to remove the white tee and tossing it aside. When he laid back atop me and our skin touched, the warmth we each held dissipated, extending to the other. My skin burned pleasantly as he kissed my cheek; my neck; my ear, his hands roaming over my chest and through my hair. This was what I needed, I realized, I'd wanted this so badly.

I exhaled as he pulled away yet again and yanked once at my sleep pants. I lifted my legs from beneath his body and helped him remove them before we did the same to him. When we were completely naked and lying pressed firmly together, he paused. He pulled back from me and touched my forehead. What was he doing? Our hearts were beating as one; I could feel his on my breast as he breathed in and out. And then it was like nothing had happened; like we hadn't stopped. He bent his head tentatively back towards mine, grinding his groin into me as he did so. With a sharp intake of breath I grasped his silky, wet hair in my hands and pulled him to me, kissing him like he had me before. We responded to one another, touching and exploring one another before he became impatient and thrust himself into me. My eyebrows furrowed together and a moan escaped my lips as he ran his hand down my leg, pulling it up farther closer to my chest so that he had better access to me. I arched my back as he thrust into me again kissing my temple and running his hands over my fiery skin. I felt that at any moment I could burst into flame with all the heat his touch sent through my body.

His breath was hot on my neck as he kissed up from my shoulder to my jaw and finally to my lips. My eyes were closed, fingernails digging into the pale skin on his back. He gasped and pulled away. I understood and instead rubbed my hands down his body; raked my fingers through his hair until it was all I could do not to scratch his back in pleasure. The tempo to our love song increased as he bent over me, his face buried in my neck. I bit my lip trying to suppress the moan that threatened to spill from my throat. And then he said my name; so soft and so tender. I tightened around him as he moved methodically above me, breathing sharply into my neck and every once in a while saying my name.

When he came, I came, and together we panted and kissed trying to make the moments of this, our first love last and last. Sweat glistened on his skin as he pulled up and looked down at me. The moon was glowing through the small window above my bed, capturing him in beautiful rays of silver. And in that instant I knew that I had become attached, that I would need this and only from him for the rest of my life.

"I-…" He began, pulling out of me and lying next to me. I curled into the crook of his arm, wrapping my own arm about his torso. His voice was so soft, almost as though he were afraid that by speaking loudly, the moment would be ruined.

"What is it?" I asked, still breathless. His skin was hot, yet cooling fast. I wanted to keep that fire there. To make it stay forever and ever.

I looked up at him then and noticed his face. His eyes were closed; his mouth slightly open. He ran the hand of the arm wrapped about me up and down my skin. And then he opened his eyes and stared at me. His eyes weren't empty; they were open and deep pools of feeling. I could see his frights, his wants, his needs, his loves, his hates.

"I think I've fallen in love with you."

"When?" I asked, unsure if I should say it back yet. His eyes were hurt for a moment, but it soon passed when he realized that I hadn't denied him at the same time.

"I don't know. I mean, we shouldn't be together like this, and yet I cannot think of a place I would rather be right now. We're so different and yet, we're so alike. I wanted to know that when we left this place, you weren't a passing fling. I don't want you to be the thing I slept with while here in Haven only because you were available. I wanted to love you, and then take you with me when I left," He paused in thought before continuing. "I think it was when you asked me why I didn't make you insane. Truth was, I didn't want you to fight, I didn't want anything to happen to you and that infuriated me beyond reason. I placed the cruciatus on you and then the imperious, and then after sufficient time of the war, I let it fade, slowly bringing back the girl that I had fallen for. When I was brought here, I felt for certain that you would recover from your time at the hospital in the hospital and then be released to the world where you'd meet some guy, fall for him and have ten kids… It made me so happy to see you. And then through all my bad luck, I was given a piece of good luck and placed with you in this Haven."

"Why wouldn't you talk to me?"

"We still hated each other in a sense, even though I was beginning to realize that my hate was starting to covert into love. Would you have accepted me if you weren't in such a dire need of company, or human contact?" He asked, looking at me and then kissed me suddenly, briefly.

I considered this. I most likely would have shunned him and caused there to be even more of a strife between the two of us. It was better that he had driven me insane with need; I had been accepting.

"I'm glad you waited," I said, placing my head gingerly on his chest. His breathing ruffled my hair and his chest rose and fell rhythmically, lulling me into sleep. "I think I love you too," I added as I fell asleep. I heard him smile; heard the parting of his lips over his teeth, and heard the skip of his heart when I said it back. And then I slept.

It was around three in the morning when I woke. It sounded like someone distant was singing, and a sad song at that. I opened my eyes and tried not to move. It took a moment to adjust to the feeling of having someone pressed against my back, arms wrapped tightly around me, and I didn't want to move. If only that bloody noise would go away. And then I remembered my CD player. I hadn't turned it off. As silently as I could, I moved away peering over my bed for the machine. I found it in a heap next to the bed stand and bent over to pick it up. I felt him stir behind me on the bed. Finally, I grasped the annoying machine in my hands and pressed stop, before placing it back in the bed side table's drawer. I turned back into bed and pulled the blankets back up onto my body, fully intent on sleeping. The next day was going to be hard, what with having to work on a half-night's sleep. I smiled as he wrapped his arms around me again and pulled me close to his body. I could live with this, I decided. It was better than always yearning, always needing. This was satisfying in every way possible.

_In many years they may forget_

_This love of ours or that we met_

_They may not know_

_How much you meant to me._

The next day was even harder than I had anticipated. Not only did neither one of us want to rise from bed, we had defiantly not gotten enough sleep through the night to be fully rested for work. The officials would notice and take note we were sure of that. We wanted this to be ours. We didn't need any of the officials instigating and hints at a romance to know what we needed from the other.

Somehow we made it to breakfast. And somehow we made it through the day without pouncing on each other and kissing the other senseless. It was fun to have this as our own little secret. It made the day pass by faster as we worked in the fields, plucking weeds and food, turning our surplus in to the officials and then through dinner where it was all I could do to not run my foot down his leg. I wanted to touch him so badly again; instead I waited till we would get back into our rooms. There we would be free to act as we pleased. We passed just as normally down the hall with doors leading off to our dorms just as we would have any other night. We walked into our rooms the same way we always did; with me following him and closing the door softly. But as soon as the lock clicked, he had me shoved against the door, his body pressed against mine and his mouth capturing my own in a kiss. We didn't make it past the living area, and even then were still not satisfied enough. So we moved to different places. The couch, the table, the counters, the shower, the bathroom counter, his dresser, my dresser until we finally ended up in his bed thoroughly exhausted.

_Finally_, I thought, smiling as we lay together, drifting off into sleep. _A bit of luck has come my way._

But I don't believe in luck; never have, most likely never will. This was… well, I don't know what this was. This was Heaven; this was joy and happiness and need and adoration all strung together into one giant present. Right? Luck, after all didn't exist, not for me at least, and that was okay. I had him now and things were going to be okay.

I looked across his bed, looked at him lying there on his stomach face turned towards me. His eyes were open, his beautiful silver eyes. He bit his lower lip, eyes narrowed as if in deep thought.

"When we leave this place, when we get out of here, will you do something for me?"

"Maybe," I said jokingly.

He became hesitant then. "You know I will, Love," I said quickly and sincerely.

"Would you marry me?"

What? Had I just heard what I thought I'd just heard? My first thought was YES! Without a doubt I was going to marry him and continue with that flame that burned deep within, but then- logic. It was what I was prized for, all this logic and a sensible mind. It was in all honesty quite infuriating. I always thought everything through… went through every scenario.

"Where would we live?" I asked.

"I'll buy us a house, where ever you want."

"But, what about everyone? Our families and our friends?"

"What about them?" He countered. Then he became sad. "If you don't want to, then you can just say it."

I didn't say anything. I knew that I loved this- I loved these feelings and the contact; the way he made me feel, but what about loving him? Did I love him for him, or for his abilities to keep me sane?

And then, I came to a reason within my own mind.

"I'll marry you on one condition, Malfoy."

"And what would that be, Darling Granger?"

"That we get to know one another… that when we leave here, we'll marry because we love each other for who we are, not what we're capable of. I want you for everything, not only because of the way you make me feel like I'm on fire when you touch me. I love you, but I want to love all of you. Is that ok?"

"Yes," he breathed. He pulled me close to him. Running his hand up and down my back he breathed deeply against me and said softly, "Do you believe in luck?"

"I'm starting to."

**A/N**

**Wow! That was intense! But tell me what you think anyways… Do you love it/hate it? Neither? Lemme know guys!**


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